


The Taming of Sirius Black

by McKay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-03 03:17:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10958532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McKay/pseuds/McKay
Summary: Sirius finally figures out what he wants and begins planning how to get it. Set during OotP, but ends well before the events in the Dept. of Mysteries.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2004. This story features a D/s relationship: alpha!Remus/submissive!Sirius.

"Sirius, sit _down_." 

Sirius sat. 

His body overruled his brain, and while all manner of replies ranging from indignant "how dare you"s to stunned "how could you"s crowded his tongue, he uttered none of them. Instead, he obeyed immediately and without question -- something he'd never done before in his life, not with anyone. Certainly not with Remus. Remus was the quiet one, the one who had never tried to rein Sirius in, even when he'd had the power to do so. 

When did the quiet, calm boy become this strong voiced man who could make Sirius obey with a single command? 

The next day, he retreated to the sanctuary of Buckbeak's lair and curled up against the hippogriff's side, mulling over this new development. Replaying the scene in his mind, he realized that his obedience had been instinctive, much like a trained dog's response to its master's voice. An icy knot formed in his belly at that thought. Had he spent so much time in canine form that he was losing his humanity? Had he developed a domesticated dog's instincts to belong and obey? 

So many questions, but the one question he didn't have to ask was "why Remus". He'd loved Remus Lupin for years, albeit carelessly. They had almost been lovers once. After James finally managed to get Lily to speak to him and began his awkward courtship of her, he'd spent less time with his friends. Peter began to withdraw from them as well, although not because of a girl. At the time, Sirius had chalked it up to... Well, he didn't remember what he'd chalked it up to. Likely he hadn't thought much of it at all. 

He did remember that he and Remus had begun spending more time together, just the two of them, and Sirius had fallen a little in love. He began flirting, and he even reached the point of coaxing Remus into a few steamy snog sessions \-- Remus was such a shy kisser, all warm, soft lips and blushes and coyly lowered lashes -- but that changed after the prank he pulled on Snape. Remus was calm, and Remus was polite, and Remus still professed to be his friend, but Sirius kept running headlong into a huge, thick wall every time he tried to get close to Remus again. 

He wanted Remus, but he couldn't have him. Naturally, that made him want Remus even more. 

Remus wouldn't talk to him about it. Peter was clueless. James said at first that he couldn't tell Sirius anything, because he'd promised not to betray Remus' confidence, but after enough pestering and pleading, he'd finally given in and said that Remus was hurt because he felt like Sirius had used him, as if Sirius had seen him as nothing more than a convenient tool to be used to enact revenge on Snape; he was also angry because Sirius hadn't stopped to think of what might have happened to Remus if Snape had been hurt or killed. 

Rather than go to Remus and try to sort it out, Sirius had grown angry and hurt in return, feeling that after six years of friendship, Remus should have known better than to think Sirius would ever use him or see him as nothing but a tool. Righteous indignation flared hot, and things had deteriorated from there. 

He told himself that if Remus didn't trust him, he wouldn't trust Remus; he let his pride lead him while his heart -- pushed aside and ignored -- yearned for what might have been. By the time Harry was born, they were friends on the most superficial of levels; by the time James and Lily were murdered, they were barely speaking. Yet as he huddled in his cell in Azkaban, fighting for his sanity, he hoarded his most precious memories to keep him sane. His triumph when he was Sorted into Gryffindor. The sense of freedom he felt when he walked out of the house as his mother screamed at his retreating back and cut his ties with his so-called family. James and Lily's wedding. Holding Harry shortly after he was born, when he was all red and scrunchy-looking, but still the most beautiful thing Sirius had ever seen. A lazy Saturday afternoon in the Gryffindor dorm, lying in bed with Remus in his arms, unable to stop moaning because Remus had, for the first time, shyly slipped his tongue into Sirius' mouth. 

When they met again in the Shrieking Shack and Remus embraced him so warmly, Sirius had hoped they might be able to try again, but at first, there wasn't time. Sirius was gone for months, and even when he returned, he wasn't safe. The only good things about returning to #12 Grimmauld Place in his estimation were that he could be closer to Harry, and he could invite Remus to stay with him, which was not entirely altruistic on his part. It would help Remus' dwindling finances, true, but it would also throw them together again, and he hoped that proximity might help smooth the path to renewed closeness between them. 

And it had. Sort of. 

Sirius felt certain that Remus had forgiven him for the sixth year incident, and Remus had welcomed Sirius back into his life as a friend, but that wasn't enough for Sirius. After his reaction the night before, he knew it would never be enough. As he leaned against Buckbeak's comforting warmth and watched dust motes dance in the fading sunlight, he finally realized and accepted the simple truth that had always hung between them, yet had never been acknowledged: he belonged to Remus. 

He responded to that voice because it was the voice of his master, and he needed it. The irony of someone so stubborn, headstrong, and rebellious as he was wanting a master wasn't lost on him. But then again, considering his Animagus form, perhaps he shouldn't have been so surprised. Dogs could be strong and stubborn, but they also tended to be loyal and fiercely devoted to their master, obeying without question when they were properly trained. Sirius needed a firm hand to train him, and his instincts knew whose hand it should be. 

The problem was, he didn't know how to tell Remus. Their friendship had only just begun to re-knit properly, and while Sirius was often impulsive, he wasn't stupid. He knew that bounding up to Remus and announcing that not only did he want to try to revive their ill-fated romance, but he wanted for Remus to own him as well was the best way to find himself on the wrong side of that thick wall again. 

Even if he thought telling Remus flat-out was a good idea, he wouldn't know what to say. All he knew was that he felt a longing for that voice. Beyond that, he didn't know what it was that he craved. He felt it roiling within him every time he looked at Remus now, but if Remus asked, "what do you want me to do?", Sirius couldn't have told him. He just _needed_ , and what he needed was tied up with the delicious promise that lay in the undertones of that firm voice. 

He decided that perhaps showing Remus was a better idea than trying to tell him, and so Sirius began trying to provoke Remus into using The Voice again. He started off with little things -- interrupting Remus while he read, picking innocuous quarrels with Molly over silly things -- but Remus let it all slide. Apparently, it took something big and important for Remus to intervene the way he had, and situations like that didn't come around often, nor could they be effectively staged. 

After several frustrating attempts, Sirius gave up. Remus was even more difficult to ruffle now than he had been when they were students, and Molly was beginning to look awfully eager to go for her wand every time Sirius opened his mouth in her presence. It was time for a change of tactics. If he couldn't provoke Remus into talking to him that way again, maybe he could coerce him. 

Remus spent most evenings in the library; he had pulled his favorite chair close to the hearth and moved a tea table within easy reach. It was understood that if one wanted to find him after dinner, one should check the library first, and nine times out of ten, he would be there, his nose buried in a book, a cup of cooling tea on the nearby table. Sirius joined him occasionally, when he wanted the company of someone who could respond to him with more than squawks; in the past, he'd tried to lure Remus out of the world of the book and into playing chess with him or just talking for a while, but now, it was different. He began going to the library every night, but instead of sprawling in a chair and trying to get Remus' attention, he sat quietly at Remus' feet and said nothing. Sometimes he read, sometimes he allowed himself the luxury of a pillow, but mostly, he sat and gazed into the fire and tried not to think about how badly he wanted Remus to touch him. 

The first few nights, Remus gave him odd looks, but didn't say anything. By the fifth night, when it was apparent that Sirius intended to continue the behavior, Remus asked him if he was all right. He glanced up at Remus and smiled and said he was fine. And he was. There was some small satisfaction to be found in simply being near Remus, although there were a couple of nights when it wasn't enough, and he retreated to Buckbeak's room and huddled under the hippogriff's protective wing, wishing and wanting something that seemed so far out of his reach that he despaired of ever having it. 

After about two weeks, Remus no longer gave him questioning looks when he plopped down on the floor and stayed there until Remus bade him good night and went to bed. Sirius took that to be a sign that Remus had accepted his behavior even if he didn't understand it, which was progress. 

Turning his gaze away from the fire for once, he studied Remus' legs. Remus had been out in Muggle London that day -- some brief job for Dumbledore -- and he was still dressed in Muggle clothes. His jeans were old and faded, snug in places that Sirius didn't want to think about, and it looked like a rip was on the verge of forming in one knee. He'd crossed his legs at the knee, which gave Sirius a glimpse of his left ankle -- fine-boned and utterly lickable. Sirius had never realized that ankles were sexy before, but either Remus' were, or Sirius was in desperate need of sex, or perhaps both. 

To top it all off, his feet were bare. The Blacks believed in comfort, hence all the floors had permanent warming spells cast on them, and Sirius knew from their school days that Remus disliked shoes. As soon as it was warm enough in the spring, he had always run around the school grounds barefoot after classes, sometimes between if he could get away with it. Thus it was no surprise that Remus went barefoot as much as possible around the house. 

Slowly, tentatively, he reached out and brushed his fingertips along the top of Remus' foot that rested on the floor. The skin was warm and smooth, and Sirius couldn't quite keep the tremble out of his fingers as he grew bolder with his caresses and still Remus made no move to stop him. He curled his fingers around Remus' ankle, his breathing rapid, and he had to bite back a moan, because this was Remus' skin, Remus' warmth, and it had been so long since he'd been allowed to touch, and he needed it so much. 

Impulsively, he bent his head and rested it against Remus' knee; the moment he did, he braced himself, certain that Remus would push him away or demand to know what he thought he was doing, but seconds ticked by, and nothing happened. The seconds turned into a minute, and the minute turned into an eternity, and still nothing happened, and Sirius began to breathe again. 

And then he felt gentle fingers combing through his hair. 

They started at his temple, stroking through the fine, downy hair there, and then they smoothed a few wayward tendrils back from his face before stroking the rest, palm molding to the curve of his skull, fingers threading through the thick, heavy curtain of his hair. 

If he'd been in canine form, he would have kicked his hind leg to show his pleasure, but as it was, he closed his eyes and slumped against Remus' leg, his hand tightening around Remus' ankle as he savored the gentle touches. All too soon, it ended, and Remus stood up, murmured "Good night", and left the room. Sirius sat back on his haunches and grinned at Remus' retreating figure, pleased with the progress. With any luck, he would be able to court Remus into using The Voice with him sooner rather than later. 

The following night, Sirius didn't hesitate; as soon as he curled up in his usual place at Remus' feet, he leaned against Remus' leg and rubbed his cheek briefly against Remus' kneecap before settling in and closing his eyes with a contented sigh. Remus was, he noticed, wearing jeans again even though he hadn't been out of the house all day, and he was barefoot too, which wasn't all that unusual, but Sirius took it as a positive sign nonetheless. At the very least, it gave him the opportunity to caress Remus' bare ankle, which he did. 

It wasn't long before he felt Remus' hand on his head again, either. Remus stroked his hair at first, but then his hand stilled, and when Sirius peeked up, he saw that Remus was holding a book in his other hand and seemed engrossed. Sirius smiled, amused and not the least bit surprised, and then a little imp of mischief rose up within him, prompting him to wonder what it would take to break Remus' concentration. 

He ran his hand up and down Remus' calf a few times and then squeezed it gently but firmly; the book didn't so much as waver, and Sirius took that as a challenge. Nuzzling his cheek against Remus' knee, he slid his hand beneath the cuff of Remus' jeans, stroking bare skin as far as he could reach; the book took a sudden dip, but then rose quickly again, and Sirius grinned. 

Impulse seized him, and he knelt and bent over to brush his lips against the top of Remus' foot. In the middle of the act, it struck him that he was prostrating himself -- to a werewolf, no less. If anyone in his family could have seen him, they would have keeled over on the spot. He was a Black, a pureblood. He wasn't meant to lower himself like this to anyone; if anything, it should have been the other way around, according to the beliefs he was taught. 

But far from feeling humiliated, he felt liberated. Remus didn't know it yet, but Sirius was offering him everything. It was the gift of himself, freely given, and Sirius reveled in the pleasure that turning himself over to someone else gave in return. Overcome with the need for more, he rubbed his cheek against Remus' foot, moaning softly, and then covered it with kisses, his tongue darting out to lap at the tempting bones of Remus' ankle. He wanted to give, to please, to make his master happy --

"Sirius, what are you doing?" 

The question, softly spoken as it was, jolted him out of his pleasure-induced daze, and he sat up, licking his lips to savor the lingering taste of Remus' skin. "I want to please you," he blurted out, hoping he could somehow find the words to make Remus understand what he meant. 

A tiny frown line formed between Remus' eyebrows as he watched Sirius, visibly puzzled. "I think that's inappropriate, considering our current relationship." 

"It doesn't have to be." Sirius reached out and began stroking his calf again, his gaze fixed steadily on Remus' face. 

"But it is now." 

"Are you saying it might not be in the future?" 

"Sirius..." Remus sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily, his tone the all-too familiar prelude to a "Sirius, I'm not going to discuss this with you further" pronouncement, but Sirius wasn't about to let it go. 

Moving swiftly, he knelt between Remus' knees and caressed Remus' thighs as he leaned forward, refusing to break eye contact. "Can you honestly tell me that you don't want me?" 

Remus' breath hitched, and he shifted in his chair, spreading his legs wider as if to give Sirius more room to approach. "No, I can't." He met and held Sirius' gaze, his own eyes wide, and Sirius thought he caught a flicker of vulnerability in the depths. "But I don't want to ruin our friendship again, either." 

"That was circumstantial. It won't happen again." Sirius continued running his hands up and down Remus' thighs, breathing in deeply of his scent now that he was so close. 

"It happened because you used me. You treated me like I was nothing more than a convenient tool." Remus gripped the chair arms, his knuckles turning white, as he pressed himself back against the chair. 

"If I really thought of you as nothing more than a tool for me to use, I wouldn't feel the way that I do about you." 

"And how is that?" Remus tilted his chin up proudly. "You fancy yourself in love with me? A Black enamored of a werewolf?" 

"Oh, I'm afraid it's much worse than that." Sirius grinned and leaned closer until they were nearly nose to nose. "A Black is not only in love with a werewolf, but said Black wants to belong to said werewolf completely." 

"What do you mean by that?" The adorable puzzled frown was back, and it was all Sirius could do to keep himself from licking the tip of Remus' nose. 

"I mean that you own me," he said simply. "I belong to you." 

The frown deepened, and Remus shook his head. "You're talking nonsense."

"It isn't nonsense. It's true." Sirius nuzzled his nose beneath Remus' chin, letting the dog speak to the wolf in hopes that animal instinct could communicate better than human words. "I'm yours." 

Remus' breathing was rapid and shallow, but he tilted his chin up slightly to accommodate the nuzzling, a soft noise of surprised pleasure escaping his throat. "I don't understand," he said at last. "You've never been like this before. Where is all this coming from?"

"Do you remember the night a couple of weeks ago when you told me to sit down?"

"Yes."

"I did."

Remus blinked at him. "And?"

"Since when have you ever known me to do anything just because someone told me to?"

"...Ah."

"It was the voice." Sirius lifted one hand and trailed his fingertips along the length of Remus' throat. "The tone you used. I responded to it instinctively, and later, I realized the truth." 

"That you belong to me."

"Yes." He met Remus' gaze steadily, his own somber and unguarded as he continued to stroke Remus' throat lightly. Remus stared back at him, wide-eyed, but not pushing him away, and Sirius took that as a good sign; if Remus were going to reject the idea -- reject Sirius -- he felt reasonably certain it would have happened by now. It might take him some time to convince Remus exactly how deeply he meant what he was saying, but at least Remus was listening. 

"What does that mean exactly?" 

Sirius could practically see the wheels turning in Remus' mind, and he grinned. Ever the thinker. Remus had to question and think until he understood things; he never just _did_ anything, never rushed in headlong and damn the consequences. Not like Sirius. 

"I don't know," Sirius admitted with a casual shrug. "I just know it's true. I want to please you." 

"In what way?" Remus' tone was wary now, and Sirius rolled his eyes. 

"This isn't just an elaborate attempt to get your trousers down, although Merlin knows I wouldn't object to that," Sirius replied, letting an edge of exasperation creep into his voice. "I don't mean I just want to please you sexually. I mean in other ways, too." 

"So... if I told you to get me a fresh pot of tea, you'd do it?"

"Yes, but it's about more than just fetching tea." Sirius reached out and stroked Remus' cheek lightly, his somber expression reflecting the depth of the feelings that lay behind his words. "I want to make you happy," he whispered. "I want you to talk to me in that voice again, and I want you to make me do what you tell me to do. I want to be your good boy." 

They stared at each other for a long moment, the silence between them heavy and charged. Everything hung in the balance of this moment, and Sirius knew it. If Remus refused him now, they might be friends, but they would never be lovers, and Sirius would never have what he so desperately craved. He could only hope that he'd managed to convince Remus that he was sincere. 

Then something shifted in the depths of Remus' eyes, and he sat up straight, gazing at Sirius with relentless intensity. 

"Prove it." 

There it was -- The Voice. 

A shudder rippled through Sirius' entire body, and he couldn't hold back a moan at the sound. "How?" He would have agreed to anything at that moment if it meant hearing Remus speak to him that way again. 

"You touch yourself at night. I can smell it on you the morning after." 

Far from being embarrassed by the thought of Remus knowing every time he brought himself off, Sirius was aroused by the thought of Remus catching a whiff across the breakfast table and _knowing_ he'd been naked, perhaps imagining him fondling himself. He wondered if it ever aroused Remus, if his oh-so-calm friend had to grit his teeth and paste a smile on his face as he lingered at the breakfast table, waiting for his erection to die down. 

"Tonight, you won't. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," Sirius replied immediately, sounding breathless even to his own ears. 

"Good. Now go to bed." 

With another little shiver -- would the sound of The Voice ever _not_ make him quiver right down to his toes? -- Sirius rose to his feet with fluid grace and backed away. He was being tested; he knew that. But he was also being given a chance, and that was more than he'd expected so soon. Perhaps deep down, on whatever instinctual level that made Sirius want to roll over and show his belly, Remus felt the urge to take charge -- to be Sirius' master. Whatever the reason, Sirius didn't intend to question it, only obey. 

"Good night, sir." 

"Good night."

Sirius cast one last look over his shoulder as he left the room, hoping perhaps Remus was looking back at him, but he wasn't. Instead, he was gazing into the fire, seeming lost in thought, which wasn't terribly surprising. Sirius had given him a lot to think about and process. Smiling and feeling far more pleased and hopeful than he had in a very long time, Sirius closed the library door quietly and left Remus alone with his thoughts. 

In the morning, Remus would find out that Sirius had done exactly as he had instructed, and maybe -- just maybe -- Sirius would be rewarded for being such a very good boy. 

* * *

As soon as he dropped into his usual chair the next morning at breakfast, Sirius cast an expectant look across the table at Remus, whose attention was on the piece of toast he was spreading with strawberry jam. As if deliberately keeping Sirius waiting -- which he probably was, the annoying bugger, Sirius thought \-- Remus did a thorough job with his toast and then meticulously sliced his sausage before glancing up at Sirius, who was still watching him closely. He breathed in deeply, scenting the air, and then gave Sirius a little smile and nod of approval. Sirius grinned broadly as he reached for the serving bowl and began heaping scrambled eggs on his plate. 

His appetite hadn't been very strong since he escaped prison, and it usually didn't take much to fill him, but that morning, he felt like he had the appetite of a growing teenager again. Even Molly remarked with grudging approval about how much he ate, and he teased her playfully before bounding out of the kitchen to tend to Buckbeak. That morning, he felt as if even a dementor would have a hard time bringing his spirits down. Not only had Remus tacitly agreed to give their relationship and its new dynamic a try, but he had also acknowledged that Sirius had obeyed his instructions. And that could only mean one thing. 

A reward! 

Sirius didn't know what form it would take, although he certainly had his hopes, but he knew it would be forthcoming, because that's how Remus worked: positive reinforcement for positive behavior. Even back when they were in school, Remus was always the one to offer praise while they helped each other study, and Sirius had heard from Harry that Remus regularly awarded points for good work in his classroom. It only stood to reason that if Remus was so generous with his students, he would be with Sirius as well. 

But the day wore on, and nothing was forthcoming. On the surface, everything seemed the same. Remus treated him with the same casual, comfortable friendship, and they each went about their little routines around the house, and at no point did Remus give a sign that things had changed between them. At first, Sirius was impatient, and then he was puzzled, and by the time evening rolled around, he was annoyed. 

How could Remus act as if nothing had changed? Sirius had offered _himself_ , for Merlin's sake. That meant something! And where the bloody hell was his reward for obeying? He'd been randier than he'd been in longer than he could remember last night, yet he hadn't given in to the need to bring himself off. He deserved _something_ for that!

Flinging the library door open, he stormed in to find Remus sitting in his chair as usual, as calm as you please. He didn't even look up from his book when Sirius barged in, and that sent Sirius from annoyed straight to angry. He was about to open his mouth and demand to know what kind of game Remus was playing with him when Remus closed his book and looked up. 

"Go to your room." 

Sirius gaped at him, not quite sure he'd heard what he thought he heard. "But I--"

"You heard what I said. Go to your room." 

In spite of The Voice, Sirius shook his head, anger fading into confusion. What was going on? Why was he being sent away? Why was Remus punishing him when he'd done as he'd been told? "No, I--"

Remus' expression darkened then, and his voice turned low and dangerous. "Don't make me tell you again." 

Oh, shit.

Sirius whirled, but before he could make his escape, Remus' voice reached him once more. 

"Once you're there, undress completely and lie down on the bed." 

He stopped in his tracks and glanced over his shoulder, but Remus appeared engrossed in his book again. Grinning, Sirius strolled out of the library and headed to his bedroom, smugly satisfied now that he knew he was going to have his reward after all. He was foolish to have doubted; Remus was just making him wait to heighten the anticipation, that was all. 

Once he was in the privacy of his own chambers, he stripped quickly and leapt onto the bed; stretching out, he reclined against the pillows and tried to decide which pose would be most striking and enticing once Remus walked in. In the end, he decided that lying on his back with one hand behind his head and one knee bent was the sexiest, showing off the long lines of his body and his rather generous endowments all at the same time. 

But the minutes passed, and Remus didn't come. Sirius' arm went to sleep, and he shook it out and then rolled onto his side, tucking a pillow under his head as he stared at the door, as if doing so would make Remus materialize somehow. Curling in on himself slightly, he closed his eyes after a while and released a quiet sigh, the warmth of the room and the lateness of the hour making him drowsy. 

He felt as if he'd just dozed off when he heard the door creak on its hinges; his eyes flew open, and he lifted his head to see Remus enter and close the door behind himself, gesturing for Sirius to lie down again. He did, sleepily watching Remus approach; Remus sat down at the foot of the bed and watched Sirius silently in return for a moment, and when he did speak, his voice was soft and husky. 

"I'm very proud of you," he said, and Sirius felt a little glow in his stomach at the praise. "Such obedience deserves a reward." 

Sirius perked up with interest at that. What was it to be? Would Remus touch him? Would Remus let him touch? 

Pulling out his wand, Remus tapped Sirius' palm lightly and murmured a spell, and Sirius immediately felt something cool and slick in his hand. "You may bring yourself off now."

For the second time that evening, Sirius gaped at him. He was meant to _wank_ in front of _Remus_?

He thought about it for a moment, and an evil smile curved his lips. 

He was meant to _wank_ in front of _Remus_. 

"Thank you," he said, trying to sound meek, but the snort Remus gave in response told him how well that worked. 

He rolled onto his back and curled his fingers around his cock, which had begun showing signs of interest the moment Remus stepped into the room; it didn't take long to bring himself to full hardness, not while Remus was sitting there at the foot of his bed, watching as if mesmerized. As Sirius stroked himself slowly, Remus stared, his lips parted slightly, and every so often, his tongue darted out to lick them, making them glisten in the warm glow of the firelight. Sirius imagined what those wet lips would feel like moving on his cock, and he groaned, his hips bucking convulsively at the mere thought. 

Spreading his legs wider, he cupped his balls in his other hand, massaging them the way he liked as much for his own pleasure as to show Remus for future reference. He'd never done this before, never wanked to an audience, but he didn't feel embarrassed; it was Remus, after all, and he didn't want to hide anything from Remus anymore. On the contrary, he wanted to make sure that if Remus didn't have any intention of fucking him through the mattress that night, Remus would at least have to go back to his solitary room and have a quick wank himself before sleep was even a remote possibility for him. 

Moaning, he arched his back off the bed as he sped up the pace of his stroking hand, giving in to the need to rock his hips and thrusting into his fist harder and faster. He rolled his head back and forth on the pillow and cried out as he moved his other hand lower and massaged just beneath his balls, pressing firmly. 

"Drama queen," Remus muttered, but his voice was thick with desire, and Sirius forced himself not to smirk. 

Instead, he focused on his own swiftly peaking pleasure and on Remus' face, on the adorable flush in Remus' cheeks and the heated glitter in his eyes as he gazed hungrily at Sirius, seeming to drink in every slight movement. He imagined that at any moment, Remus' control would snap, and he would pounce on Sirius, overcome with desperate need. He imagined Remus pounding into him, taking him, claiming him...

Only a few more swift strokes of his fist, and with a wordless cry, he came, his hips snapping up as he spilled on his hand and stomach. Panting, he collapsed and released his cock, letting his legs remained splayed wantonly as he gazed at Remus through half-lidded eyes. He could practically feel the heat of Remus' gaze searing him, and he gave Remus his best "come hither" smile, hoping he could tempt Remus into lowering the walls, even if only a little bit. 

With a predatory gleam in his eyes, Remus rolled gracefully off the bed and moved closer to the head; Sirius' breath caught in his throat with anticipation \-- and then Remus bent and dragged his tongue along Sirius' stomach, lapping up the cooling fluid spattered on his skin. With a soft cry, Sirius arched his back, pushing his body up to meet Remus' mouth in a silent plea for more; desire coiled in his belly, spreading tendrils of fiery need outward until even his spent cock made the effort to twitch with renewed interest. 

Only when he had licked Sirius clean did Remus straighten again, licking his lips as he reached out to smooth Sirius' sweat-soaked hair back from his face. "Perfect," he murmured. 

Sirius didn't know if Remus was referring to the wanking or the little taste of him, but it didn't matter; he leaned into the caresses, feeling sated in both body and heart as Remus kissed his forehead and bade him a quiet good night. After Remus slipped from the room, Sirius dragged himself out of bed to freshen up and turn back the covers; once he was snuggled under the blankets, sleep wasn't long in coming, and for once, it was deep and dreamless. 

* * *

The next few days passed peacefully as Sirius and Remus fell into an easy pattern. During the day, life went on as it always did before; other than an occasional exchange of looks or touches, they didn't let anyone know that they were gradually making the shift from friends to lovers, and Remus didn't use The Voice. Sirius wasn't in any hurry; their romance was new, and they were still trying to sort things out. Becoming a publicly acknowledged couple would only add outside pressure, and they didn't need that right now. Sirius didn't particularly want it, either. As long as they were outwardly just friends, their relationship would be theirs and theirs alone, and he wasn't ready to share yet. 

During the day, they treated each other as they always had: old friends who had their own short-hand language, and who were comfortable together. Two old friends who were caught up in another war, who had scores to settle and business to attend to that could tear them apart. Sirius was still wanted, and Remus often went out at Dumbledore's bidding, but they did what they had to do, because there was a greater purpose to serve. 

But night time was their time. When darkness fell, when dinner was over and the dishes cleared away, and everyone gone or settled for the evening, they put everything else aside. The library was their sanctuary, where all other considerations disappeared, and Remus spoke to Sirius with The Voice while Sirius knelt at his feet and thought only of obedience to his master. Sirius loved the night, loved the library. It was theirs and theirs alone, and only there did he feel safe, fully connected to Remus, and truly like himself. 

The night following his reward, Sirius leaned against Remus' leg as usual, but this time, Remus patted his thigh, silently inviting Sirius to rest his head in Remus' lap, and Sirius didn't need to be asked twice. Curling one arm around Remus' legs, he pillowed his cheek on Remus' thigh, sighing with contentment when Remus began stroking his hair. He considered trying to find a subtle way of getting his hand or mouth on Remus' cock, but really, there was no subtle way to go about it. Remus would figure out what he was leading up to, and he didn't want to get in trouble for attempting something that Remus hadn't given him permission to do yet. 

Other than kissing his forehead or cheek while saying good night, Remus didn't show any signs of increasing their intimacy for the next few nights. He let Sirius practically crawl in his lap, but that was the extent of it, and by the fourth night, Sirius had grown increasingly dissatisfied by the lack of progress. When Remus kissed his cheek, he wanted to turn his head and capture Remus' mouth, but he didn't; he had started the game, but they were playing by Remus' rules, and he knew it. He also knew Remus well enough to know that pushing would gain him nothing except a quick escort to the other side of that damned wall. 

Frustrated and randy, he returned to his room alone -- again -- and undressed impatiently. If he couldn't seek relief with Remus, at least he could give it to himself, and he did; he came quickly, remembering the way Remus had watched him so intently and the feel of Remus' tongue lapping at his skin. Relaxed in the aftermath, he drifted off, ignoring the empty little ache in the pit of his stomach that quietly longed for Remus' touch. 

He felt better in the morning; wanking away his pent-up energy had done him good, and he reminded himself that their progress may be slow, but it _was_ happening. Eventually, Remus would invite Sirius to his bed; it was, he felt, no longer a question of if, but when, and that was a comforting thought. 

When he sat down at the table, however, his good mood dissipated at the sight of the displeased frown Remus gave him. He wanted to ask what was wrong then and there, but he had a feeling he knew already. He also had a feeling that Remus wouldn't address it until that night, and he was right. He went through the entire day fighting the urge to hover over Remus and offer a string of apologies, but he forced himself to put all that aside and carry on as usual. By the time he went to the library that night, he was ready to fling himself at Remus' feet and beg for forgiveness; not only had Remus' displeasure torn him up inside, but the knowledge that he'd been disobedient ate at him as well. 

As soon as he arrived, he knelt and pressed his forehead to the floor, not daring to touch Remus yet. "I'm sorry," he blurted out, wanting to break the chilly silence. 

"Why are you sorry?" Remus' voice was calm, yet it made the bottom of Sirius' stomach fall out. 

"I -- You didn't give me permission to touch myself."

"No. I didn't." Remus reached down and cupped Sirius' chin in his fingers, lifting it, and Sirius reluctantly looked up. "I'm disappointed in you," Remus continued, his voice still calm and pleasant, and that made it so very much worse than if he'd yelled and been angry. "I wonder if you truly understand what it means to belong to someone."

"I do!" He sat up and clutched Remus' knees. "I do understand, and I want to belong to you. It was a mistake, and I'm sorry. I just -- I was craving your touch so badly, and I needed release. It won't happen again, I promise."

Nodding, Remus released his chin and stroked his cheek, and Sirius leaned into the touch, needing the contact more than he could express in mere words. "You're still learning, and so am I. I should have been more explicit in my instructions. Thus I'm not going to punish you harshly." 

Sirius sagged with relief. "Thank you, sir." 

"You may not spend tonight or tomorrow night with me in the library. From now on, you will refrain from masturbating unless I give you permission. Your pleasure will come from me, dictated by my will alone. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir." 

Remus smiled, his eyes full of affection as he looked at Sirius. "My good boy," he murmured, sifting his fingers gently through Sirius' hair, and Sirius returned the smile with one of his own, those words of praise meaning far more to him than any compliments or praise he'd ever heard before. Leaning over, Remus pressed a lingering kiss to Sirius' forehead, and Sirius closed his eyes, savoring it, knowing it would be the last he received for two full days. "Now go to your room. I'll see you in the morning." 

The next two days seemed like an eternity. It wasn't so bad during the day; Remus didn't avoid him, after all, and they still spent time together and talked. Remus was as friendly with Sirius as he always was, but it wasn't nearly enough. 

On the third night, when his punishment ended, he couldn't get to the library quickly enough; in fact, he arrived before Remus did, and he paced impatiently in front of the fireplace, silently urging Remus to hurry. When the door opened and Remus walked in, Sirius loped over to meet him, not bothering to hide his exuberance. Smiling, Remus held out his arms, and Sirius flung himself into the embrace. 

"I missed you," he said, and he felt rather than heard Remus chuckle. 

"You saw quite a bit of me both days." 

"It wasn't the same. It wasn't this." 

"What do you mean?" Remus pulled back enough so he could look at Sirius, his expression questioning. "Are you ready for our relationship to be public so we can touch like this?"

"No, it isn't that. I want you to myself right now." He lifted his hand and rested it against Remus' cheek, his gaze open and unguarded. "I missed my master." 

Remus looked startled for a moment, but then he reached up and covered Sirius' hand with his own. "Your master missed you as well," he said softly. "I trust this means you'll behave yourself so that I don't have to punish you like this again?"

"I plan to be good," Sirius replied, grinning mischievously. "Very, very good." 

Laughing quietly, Remus twined their fingers and led Sirius to the fireplace, and then released his hand. "I want you to undress now." 

Barely had the words left Remus' mouth before Sirius was unfastening his robes, casting curious glances at Remus as he pulled out his wand. A swish, and the library door locked. Another, and a soft, wooly rug appeared in front of the hearth along with a plush pillow. Sirius felt his heart begin to pound against the walls of his chest, and he couldn't get out of his clothes fast enough. Was Remus going to fuck him at last? Or did Remus want to watch him again? 

Putting his wand aside, Remus gestured to the rug. "Lie down." 

Sirius complied immediately and without question, determined to be on his best behavior. He stretched out on his back and settled the pillow under his head, watching Remus with growing curiosity -- and growing arousal. Kneeling beside him, Remus rested his hands on Sirius' shoulders and smoothed his flattened palms down the length of Sirius' chest, and Sirius gasped, his body arching up to meet the slow caress. 

"You said you craved my touch." Remus ran his hands back up to Sirius' shoulders just as slowly, covering more skin this time, as if trying to memorize every nuance through touch alone. "It's remiss of me as your master to neglect you in such a way." 

"You take very good care of me." Sirius tried to remember how to breathe as Remus' hands roamed his body, exploring so slowly and tenderly, those long and graceful fingers pressing here and brushing there, mapping out his pleasure spots thoroughly. 

"I want to." 

Remus bent and pressed a kiss between his nipples before resuming his exploration, and Sirius stared up at him, amazed by what he saw in Remus' face. He forgot that prison had ravaged his face and body; looking at Remus looking at him, he felt attractive again, and it made him want to surrender even more. 

And then Remus wrapped his hand around the base of Sirius' cock and bent to draw the head into his mouth, and Sirius cried out, his body instantly going taut, his muscles quivering as his hands clawed at the rug. Remus' other hand crept down to his balls, massaging just the way Sirius had done, showing him that Remus had indeed been watching and learning, and he shifted his leg to give Remus better access. 

Remus swirled his tongue around the head, gathering fluid and moaning softly at the taste, and explored the slit before drawing Sirius' cock deeper into his mouth; Sirius lifted his hips, seeking out that warm, wet haven, and he reached out to bury his fingers in Remus' hair, needing the contact. His arousal was building swiftly, accelerated by the giddy thought that this was _real_ \-- Remus really did have his mouth on Sirius' cock. It wasn't a dream, he wasn't going to wake up alone and painfully hard -- he was going to _come in Remus' mouth_ \-- after yearning for so long, it was happening -- _his_ Remus' mouth -- and then his orgasm hit, and he cried out as he came, his hips surging up as Remus swallowed eagerly, lapping up every last drop until Sirius collapsed on the rug, spent and exhausted. 

Stretching out on his side next to Sirius, Remus propped himself up on one elbow and gazed down into Sirius' face, smiling as he gently finger-combed through Sirius' hair, smoothing it back. "Does that sate your craving?"

"A little," he replied, trying to look and sound disingenuous. "But you know, I've had that craving for a very long time." 

Remus laughed and shook his head. "Incorrigible." 

"You wouldn't have me any other way." 

"Most definitely not." 

That night, Sirius lay awake, remembering his master's touch. Closing his eyes,   
he imagined he could feel Remus' hands on his body again, and he savored the memories,   
already eager for the next time. But as much as he'd enjoyed it, there was still   
something missing. Two things, actually: Remus had yet to kiss him, and Remus   
had yet to let Sirius touch him.

Remus had seen him laid utterly bare, yet Sirius hadn't been given a peek at anything more intimate than Remus' ankle. Casting his mind back to their days at school, he realized that he had never seen Remus fully undressed -- something he'd never consciously been aware of before now. But thinking back, it struck him that he'd seen James and Peter wander around the dorm room in various states of undress just as he had done himself, and the three of them had showered together; he'd somehow managed to paint Remus in that picture as well, but he hadn't been. For the first four years, Remus had gone to shower only after his dorm mates had returned, and during fifth and sixth year, he'd used the Prefects' bathroom. Seventh year, he'd returned to using the regular bathroom, but still, he staggered it so that he wasn't in there at the same time as anyone else. 

Sirius also remembered how slowly he'd had to proceed with his shy wolf, but he hadn't minded; seeing the wide-eyed wonderment in Remus' face as Sirius taught him how to kiss had made the effort worthwhile. That gradual pace was the reason they'd never made it as far as being lovers before The Prank, and Remus was apparently still a slow mover. Considering Remus' lack of shyness about sucking him, he didn't think inexperience was the reason behind it at this point; indeed, when it came to pleasing Sirius, Remus seemed to have few inhibitions. When it came to his own pleasure, however, things ground to a screeching halt. 

_Sirius clenched his hands on the back of Remus' sweater as he rocked his hips, his erection rubbing against Remus' thigh that was nestled so snugly between Sirius' legs; he felt Remus' mouth close on his neck, sucking hard, and he cried out as the sweet friction carried him over the edge, and he came, clutching Remus tightly._

_Tucking Remus securely under his chin, he sighed with sated contentment and rubbed Remus' back as he relaxed in the aftermath. But he could feel Remus' erection pressed against his leg, and he slipped his hands beneath Remus' sweater, caressing the warm bare skin beneath; Remus' entire body went tense, and he squirmed in Sirius' embrace as Sirius began easing the sweater up._

_"Sirius, no." Remus' voice was soft but firm. "Practice will be over soon. James--"_

_"James will shower and change clothes first, and then he'll probably meet up with Lily. He won't be back until after dinner."_

_"What about Peter? You know it won't take him until dinner to finish his research." As he spoke, Remus pulled away and rolled off the bed, straightening his clothes, and Sirius watched with fond amusement, ascribing Remus' refusal to not wanting to face the inevitable teasing from their friends if they were caught. He would simply have to make it up to Remus next time._

But the next time had never come, and now Remus was exhibiting the same reluctance as he had so many years ago. A stubborn little frown formed between Sirius' eyebrows as he burrowed under his covers. He was determined to find out what was behind Remus' behavior and put an end to it, whatever it was. He wasn't about to spend the rest of their lives without ever being allowed to see or touch Remus or to give him pleasure; that would be unfair to both of them. 

When he entered the library the following night, he found Remus settled in his usual chair, reading. Remus glanced up and smiled as he approached, and he smiled back, trying to look innocuous, as if nothing was going to be any different from any other night. He knelt and rested his head in Remus' lap, relaxing as Remus stroked his hair soothingly, but not so much that he forgot his plans for the evening. 

He began slowly, draping his arm across Remus' legs and leaving it there for a few minutes; when he was certain Remus was fully engrossed in his book, he shifted his arm and rested his hand on Remus' thigh, gradually sliding it up to his hip. There he stopped, waiting to see if the move would be accepted or rejected, but nothing happened. Smiling, he relaxed for a few more minutes, rubbing his thumb back and forth against Remus' hipbone through his jeans. 

Since the subtle attempts had worked, Sirius decided it was time for a bolder move, and he began nuzzling his cheek against Remus' thigh, slowly moving it up until it rested against Remus' crotch -- and _that_ got Remus' attention. 

"What do you think you're doing?" Remus sounded stern, but not annoyed, and Sirius looked up at him with his best winning smile. 

"I want to please you," he said. "And this time, I _do_ mean sexually." 

"Sirius--" 

"Please." Sirius pressed his cheek against Remus' stomach, his fingers tightening on Remus' hip. "You've taken such good care of me. Let me take care of you now." 

Remus didn't answer right away, and when he did, Sirius thought he heard an undercurrent of nervousness in his voice. "What do you want to do?" 

Dear Merlin, but that was a loaded question! What _didn't_ he want to do might be more accurate. But he knew he couldn't rush into anything, not when he felt Remus already growing tense, and they hadn't even done anything yet. "May I touch you? Please?" 

Another long silence, and then softly, "Yes." 

He _wanted_ to dive right in -- to unfasten Remus' fly and free his cock then and there -- but instead, he sat up and moved to kneel between Remus' knees, caressing Remus' thighs as he leaned in to nuzzle kisses along Remus' jawline. He considered trying to initiate a kiss, but he'd been given one large privilege, and he didn't want to risk ruining it by pushing for another. Instead, he focused on Remus' neck, kissing and nipping lightly as he mapped out all the little places that made Remus' breath catch, still kneading Remus' firm thighs. 

It wasn't long before he felt the tension drain away enough for Remus to start responding, wrapping his arms around Sirius' shoulders as he tilted his head to one side, giving Sirius better access to his neck and ear. Soft noises of pleasure rose in his throat, and he sank back in the chair, drawing Sirius down with him. Smiling against his skin, Sirius breathed in deeply, inhaling the warm, musky scent that was uniquely Remus'; he'd missed it, and now he wanted to wallow in it until it covered him. As he continued trailing kisses along Remus' neck, he slid his hand up to the buttons of Remus' jeans and unfastened the first one, pausing when he felt Remus tighten again. 

"Sirius..."

"Please." Sirius brushed a kiss against Remus' ear, making him shiver. "Put yourself in my hands tonight." 

Remus didn't answer aloud, but he lifted one hand and rested it on the back of Sirius' head, combing through his hair gently, and Sirius took that as permission to continue, unfastening the rest of the buttons quickly before Remus could change his mind. Pushing the fabric aside, he carefully worked Remus' cock free of his jeans and underpants, unable to keep from moaning at the feel of the warm, firm flesh in his hand at long last. It was thick rather than long, and Sirius shivered at the delicious thought of feeling it buried inside him, stretching and filling him. 

He spat in his palm and then curled his hand around Remus' cock again, stroking it slowly; Remus' fingers tightened in his hair, his other hand clutching at Sirius' back as Sirius closed his mouth over a particularly sensitive spot beneath his ear, licking and sucking it with eager hunger. With a choked little cry, Remus let his legs fall open as Sirius fisted his cock, deliberately brushing his thumb across the head to tease him, and his body began to tighten again, but for an entirely different reason. 

"That's it," Sirius murmured against his ear. "You can let go. You're safe with me." 

As he began pumping his fist faster, Sirius lifted his head, wanting to see Remus' pleasure; as many times as he'd fantasized about sex with Remus, he'd never seen Remus in the throes of an orgasm before, and he wasn't about to miss it. Remus' eyes were closed, his head thrown back slightly, and his lips were parted as he panted for breath, his bottom lip bitten until it was rosy and swollen; his fair skin was flushed, the glowing blush making him look younger \-- an innocent debauched -- and Sirius didn't think he'd ever seen anything more beautiful. 

Hooking one leg around Sirius' hips, Remus arched his back, his body quivering as he hovered on the edge, and then, with a sudden, sharp cry, he came, his hips surging up against Sirius' fist. Moaning with pleasure, Sirius released Remus' cock and lifted his hand to his mouth, greedily licking it clean while Remus sagged in his chair and watched through half-lidded eyes, his breath still shallow and ragged in the aftermath of his release. 

Only when he was certain he had got every drop did he reach for his wand to clean Remus up before tucking him back in and refastening his jeans, tending to him with diligent care. Smiling with pleased satisfaction, he knelt at Remus' feet again and wrapped his arms around Remus' leg. 

"Thank you," he said, rubbing his cheek against Remus' knee. "It gave me so much pleasure to do that. I want to make you happy." 

"You _do_ make me happy." 

"You certainly looked happy when you were coming," Sirius replied, grinning, unable to resist the urge to tease a little. 

Remus' cheeks grew flushed again, and he glanced away. "I enjoyed it," he said tersely, and Sirius sat up straight, peering into Remus' face. 

"Why wouldn't you ever let me do it before?" 

"It's always been easier for me to give pleasure than to receive it." 

"Why?" Sirius slid his arms around Remus' waist, troubled by the answers he was getting and instinctively wanting to offer whatever comfort he could, and Remus reached out to rub his back, falling silent for a minute or two before answering the question. 

"Because I'm scarred, and those scars are a visible reminder of what I am. No one can look at them and pretend that I'm a normal human like anyone else -- not even me." 

The pieces fell into place then, and Sirius nodded, finally understanding the reason behind his reticence then and now. "It doesn't matter," he said, his voice firm and sure. "I don't care that you aren't human. I've never cared. You're my master, and I belong to you. I want to see you -- _all_ of you -- and I want to give you pleasure in any way I can." 

"You've given me so much already," Remus murmured, gazing down at Sirius with the same wonderment Sirius had seen twenty years ago after their first kiss. "My good boy." 

Sirius basked in the warmth of those words, and he tightened his arms around Remus, burying his face against Remus' stomach and releasing a happy sigh. "It's only going to get better from here." 


	2. Chapter 2

And it did get better. The number of nights when they did nothing but talk, or Remus simply read dwindled to no more than two or three in a row, and then one or two, and after a while, even just keeping their hands off each other long enough to get through the day seemed like too much to ask. As soon as they were alone in the library, Remus locked the door, and the fun began. 

Sirius learnt quite a bit about his old friend in the process. If he'd known how well Remus could use his tongue, he would have tried to seduce him much sooner. He _still_ shivered at the memory of the night when Remus ordered him to strip and bend over the arm of the sofa, and then proceeded to give him the most thorough rimming of his life. By the time Remus began tongue-fucking him, he was begging for release. By the time Remus began finger-fucking him, brushing against his prostate with each thrust, he was incoherent and utterly convinced that he would go mad unless Remus let him come soon. Remus, however, had only laughed wickedly and continued the exquisite torture until he was ready to show mercy. 

At first, if Sirius wanted to touch Remus, he had to ask. As much as Sirius would have loved it if Remus had grabbed his hair and forced him to his knees, Remus never instructed Sirius to give him pleasure. He didn't refuse when Sirius asked for the privilege, but he didn't initiate it either, and Sirius began asking more often, wanting Remus to realize that Sirius enjoyed pleasing him, and that it would be more than all right if Remus _did_ ask, as far as Sirius was concerned. 

Gradually, Remus began to show less tension when Sirius asked, his reluctance fading into a shy willingness that Sirius found endearing. The sight of his master, a blush staining his cheeks even as he spoke in The Voice, was cute. There was no other word for it, although he decided it was wiser not to say so to Remus. 

The turning point came unexpectedly. It was broad daylight, and they were going back upstairs after lunch. Remus had shown no signs of being exceptionally randy that day, but when they reached the turn in the staircase between the first and second floors, he grabbed Sirius and pushed him against the wall, leaning close to growl, "suck me right now" in his ear. 

Sirius allowed himself to boggle for a millisecond before dropping to his knees and scrambling to free Remus' cock before Remus could have second thoughts. But Remus fisted his hands in Sirius' hair and bit his lip to keep from making any noise as he thrust slowly into Sirius' mouth, and Sirius clutched Remus' hips and worked Remus' cock with his tongue eagerly. 

His rational mind knew that Remus had probably chosen this spot because they could hear anyone approaching from above or below in plenty of time to stop, but at the same time, the possibility that they might be caught excited him almost as much as the fact that Remus had finally initiated something for his own pleasure instead of Sirius'. His wicked werewolf was full of surprises, and he loved every one of them. 

There were days when Remus had to leave, mostly because Dumbledore had something for him to do, and Sirius always felt out of sorts on those days, retreating to spend the long hours with Buckbeak. Molly called it sulking, and maybe it was a little. He envied Remus the freedom to leave the house whenever he pleased, and being separated from Remus brought into sharp focus how trapped he was. Under different circumstances, he might have been able to go with Remus, but instead, he was stuck at home, waiting and hoping nothing happened. 

On those nights, Remus sought him out, cuddling him until he shook off his mood, and they talked about how it would be in the future when the war was over, and Sirius' name was cleared. Sirius told Remus about all the places he wanted them to visit together, and how they would sell this moldy, crumbling ruin and buy a house in the country with enough land that they could run free together on the night of the full moon. He would hire someone to brew the wolfsbane for Remus -- someone who was not Snivellus -- and Harry could live with them for as long as he wanted, and they would be happy together as a little family. 

Remus always listened quietly, holding Sirius close and letting him talk himself out, and when he fell silent at last, Remus kissed his temple and said, "We'll be very happy when that happens, but I'm happy now, too." 

On those nights, Remus always accompanied Sirius back to his room and undressed Sirius with gentle, loving hands, giving Sirius pleasure with either his hand or his mouth before tucking him into bed and crawling beneath the covers with him. Sirius woke up alone, but he had the memory of falling asleep in Remus' arms. 

Every day seemed to bring more progress, and every day, he felt closer to Remus, feeling Remus' ownership more keenly. It was no longer an abstract desire; it was his reality, and he relished it. Sometimes, he misbehaved in little ways on purpose, such as interrupting Remus' reading in order to earn a spanking, a punishment which they both knew was no punishment. In truth, Remus placed few restrictions on him, and those were the ones that Sirius obeyed; he knew if he broke any of those rules, he would receive a _real_ punishment, and Remus knew him all too well, knew exactly what buttons to push to make the punishment unpleasant. 

Inevitably, however, the time came when Remus was assigned a mission that would take him away for several days, possibly as long as a week, but no longer than that, because the full moon was nearing. He was taking a week's worth of the Wolfsbane that Snape had brewed for him ahead of time just in case, the little portable cauldron spelled to keep the potion warm. Remus went about preparing for the journey with his usual calmness, but Sirius moped, not only because he couldn't go, but also because he dreaded being separated from Remus for so long. 

"I'll be home as soon as I can," Remus said, rubbing Sirius' back soothingly as they lay entwined in front of the fire in the library, enjoying their last night together before Remus' departure. 

Remus had instructed Sirius to strip as soon as Sirius arrived and then conjured a soft rug for them again where he covered Sirius' body with kisses, licks, and nibbles before finally taking Sirius' cock into his mouth. Afterward, Sirius nestled as close as possible, one arm flung across Remus' stomach as he relaxed, warm and sated. 

"I know." Sirius buried his nose against Remus' neck. "I'll miss you." 

"I'll miss you, too." Remus fell silent for a moment, trailing his fingertips along Sirius' spine. When he spoke again, his tone was one of studied casualness. "This will be the longest we've been away from each other since we've been together, and I've been trying to think of ways to make tonight memorable." 

Sirius lifted his head, instantly interested and curious. "Have you?"

Nodding, Remus nudged him, a silent hint for him to move, and Sirius rolled away from him and sat cross-legged on the rug, watching with alert anticipation for what was to come next. He could practically see Remus bracing himself as he sat up and moved to sit facing Sirius, and that only intrigued Sirius even more. But his curiosity changed to surprise and then overwhelmed delight when Remus reached for the hem of his threadbare sweater and began pulling it up and off. 

Tucking his hands beneath his legs to keep himself from reaching out to touch before he was given permission, Sirius stared avidly at each new expanse of skin that was uncovered as Remus removed the garment and then tossed it aside. Raking his fingers through his hair to settle it, Remus smiled uncertainly at Sirius, a deep vulnerability in his eyes. Sirius didn't have to ask why; with anyone else, taking off a shirt or sweater in front of another person was, for the most part, a simple matter, but for Remus, it was different. 

There were two sets of claw marks, one on his chest and the other on his stomach, and a bite mark on his left shoulder; the scars were raised, and nothing short of a glamour would make them unnoticeable. Remus was right: looking at them, it was impossible to ignore that he had survived a vicious attack and was a werewolf himself. But far from being repulsed, Sirius wanted to show that he'd meant what he said. He understood that Remus was revealing more than just a bit of skin; Sirius was being gifted with a level of closeness to Remus that no one else had ever had, and he wanted to show proper appreciation. 

"May I touch?" he asked, and when Remus nodded, he reached out to guide Remus down onto the rug again; Remus let him, stretching out on his back and looking up at Sirius with a more open, unguarded expression than Sirius had ever seen before. 

Stretching out on his side next to Remus, he swept his gaze along Remus' torso, taking in the details beyond the scars. Although he didn't look underfed anymore thanks to Molly, he was still thin, the bump of his ribs just visible; Sirius thought they could both stand to gain a bit more weight, and he fully intended to see to it that they did once they were free to enjoy a comfortable life of leisure. In contrast to Sirius' own smooth chest, Remus' had a generous dusting of dark brown hair, and Sirius bent his head to nuzzle his cheek against it, enjoying the feel of it rasping against his skin and of the little lift of Remus' chest as he gasped softly at the affection. 

Lifting his head again, Sirius traced the thick scars on Remus' stomach with his fingertips, his touch light, almost reverent; he felt Remus' muscles tighten and quiver in response, but he continued his slow exploration, tracing each one until he had touched all of them. Remus' breathing had quickened, and then it grew ragged as Sirius bent to follow up the path of his fingers with his lips and tongue, bestowing tender licks and kisses along the length of each scar. 

He felt Remus' arms around him, felt Remus' fingers digging into his back, felt Remus' chest hitching, but he kept his focus on paying homage to the evidence of Remus' old wounds. The scars were, after all, the price Remus had paid for survival, and Sirius was grateful for them. 

Only when he had finished did he look at Remus' face again, shocked to see a tell-tale streak running from the corner of his eye to his hairline gleaming in the firelight; crooning softly, he licked it away with gentle laps, the tang of salt strong on his tongue, and barely had he finished when Remus tightened his arms around him and abruptly rolled them both over until Sirius was beneath him. 

"My Sirius," he whispered, caressing Sirius' cheek. "My good boy." 

And then Remus kissed him. Sirius gasped, momentarily stunned, but then he flung his arms around Remus, pulling him down close, and Remus let him, stretching out half on top of Sirius, his leg nestling between Sirius' thighs as he claimed Sirius' mouth. Plunging his fingers into Remus' hair, Sirius parted his lips eagerly and met Remus' tongue with his own, coaxing it deeper as Remus began to taste and explore. Moaning, he stroked and sucked Remus' tongue, surrendering his mouth completely and answering Remus' fierce hunger with his own. He wanted Remus to take him, to claim him, to devour him whole -- whatever his master wanted. 

Draping his leg over Remus', he arched his back and rubbed his bare chest against Remus', reveling in the sensual delight of skin on skin; the pleasure was overwhelming, intoxicating enough for him to feel light-headed as the kiss continued. Remus drew Sirius' bottom lip into his mouth and sucked it before slowly releasing it and breaking the kiss, gazing down at him with eyes wide and dark with arousal. 

Sirius reached up and framed Remus' face in both hands. "Yours," he whispered. 

"Yes. Mine." Remus kissed him again, lightly this time, and then rolled away from him, reaching for his sweater. "And I'll be back to claim you as soon as possible." 

* * *

Sirius knelt on the cold hardwood floor of his bedroom, silently damning himself, then Molly Weasley and her big mouth, then Snape, and then himself again. He could have been waiting for Remus to come and fuck him through the mattress, but instead, he was waiting for Remus to come and punish him -- and not in the fun "naughty boys deserve a spanking" way, either. 

His mind drifted back to the morning of Remus' departure nearly a week before. Remus left before dawn, but Sirius got up to see him off properly, for which Remus showed his appreciation with a deep, breath-stealing, possessive kiss right there in the entrance hall. 

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Remus whispered, trying to avoid waking Mrs. Black's portrait. "If you're good while I'm gone, I'll give you a very special reward when I return." 

Sirius lit up with anticipation at that. "You'll fuck me?" he breathed, scarcely daring to hope it was true. 

Remus pushed himself up on his toes and growled in Sirius' ear. "All the way through the mattress to the floor beneath." 

"Oh, Merlin..." Sirius felt his knees in danger of giving way, and he slumped against the wall, already growing hard just thinking about it. 

Chuckling, Remus nuzzled Sirius' cheek and then smiled affectionately at him. "Wank all you like while I'm away. But I'm going to add one more rule." 

"What's that?"

Remus' expression turned somber as he gazed up at Sirius. "There may be an Order meeting while I'm gone. If there is, behave yourself with Severus. Don't start anything with him, and if he starts something, don't finish it. We can't afford to antagonize him right now. Harry needs those Occlumency lessons, and you know Severus is capable of withholding them out of sheer spite if you make him angry enough." 

"I'll behave," he said blithely. "I promise." 

But he hadn't behaved. The Order meeting had been convened, and afterwards, Snape provoked him with snide remarks about house-trained mutts and lazy sods who sat around and did nothing while others risked their lives. At first, Sirius tried to ignore him, but after being separated from Remus for nearly a week, he was edgy and cranky. Wanking helped, but it wasn't the same as feeling Remus' hands or mouth on him, and he missed his master. He felt lonely and adrift without Remus, and his tolerance level was low. 

Snape pushed, Sirius snapped, and Molly bore witness to the entire scene. 

Sirius hoped she would exercise some tact and discretion for once and not mention it to Remus, especially when Remus arrived, full of smiles and kisses and clearly happy to see Sirius again. The first moment they had alone together, Remus hauled Sirius into his arms and kissed him like a starving man at a banquet; Sirius moaned into his mouth and clung to him, his pleasure at the embrace marred by the little niggle in the back of his mind reminding him that he'd disobeyed a rule. 

It wasn't as if Remus gave him an endless list of rules and expected him to remember and obey all of them. There were exactly three rules that Remus set down for him, and breaking one of them was the only thing that would earn him a real punishment: he wasn't allowed to wank without permission, he wasn't allowed to address Remus by name while they were alone and in their master/good boy roles, and he wasn't allowed to even think about leaving the house without telling Remus first. Of the three, only the last offered any temptation to break it, but he'd managed to resist so far. Then Remus had given him the rule about behaving himself around Severus, and he'd broken it. 

And Molly told Remus all about it over dinner. 

Sirius fought the urge to slide out of his chair and under the table when Remus looked at him; outwardly, he appeared calm, but Sirius could see the displeasure in his eyes, and he knew there would be no fucking through the mattress that night. 

After dinner, Remus walked past his chair and whispered, "Go to your room and wait for me there." His voice was cold with an undercurrent of anger, and Sirius nodded and gazed down at his mostly untouched plate of food, dreading the punishment. 

Pushing back his chair, he went upstairs, dragging his feet as if dawdling would help put off the inevitable, and he knelt on the floor and began to wait. The longer he waited, the more he began to worry that the punishment would be something worse than Remus refusing to let Sirius spend time in the library with him for a few days. What if Remus decided that it wasn't worth the effort anymore, because Sirius disobeyed him the moment his back was turned? What if Remus left him? 

After half an hour, Remus finally arrived, and after having all that time to fret and wonder, Sirius had to force himself not to throw himself at Remus' feet and beg for a second chance. Instead, he watched as Remus closed and locked the door behind himself and then approached. It wasn't helping that the stern expression and predatory stalk were sexy as hell, and Sirius was suddenly finding arousal mingled with dread as he gazed up at Remus. 

It also wasn't helping that Remus was wearing all black: black trousers, a black long-sleeved shirt that he had left unbuttoned, and his feet were bare. Sirius had never seen him wear all black before, but by Merlin, he would try to find a way to see it again if their relationship survived the night. 

Frowning down at Sirius, Remus circled him slowly and then stopped in front of him. "What was the one additional rule I gave you before I left?" 

"To behave myself with Snape," Sirius replied, and then he opened his mouth to offer an explanation, an apology -- whatever Remus wanted to hear \-- but Remus held up one hand to silence him. 

"Why did I ask you to do so?" 

"Because Snape is giving Harry Occlumency lessons." 

"And why are those lessons important?" 

Sirius hung his head, his voice dropping to a whisper, the full implications of what he'd done sinking in. "If he doesn't learn how to shield his mind, he's in danger because of his connection to Voldemort." 

"Precisely. If Severus refuses to give Harry those lessons, Harry will be in danger. Did you think of that? You didn't, did you. You got angry, and you lashed out, because you couldn't control yourself." 

"I tried--" 

"Not hard enough." Remus' voice was clipped and icy. "I don't require much of you, but when I _do_ give you an order, I expect it to be obeyed." 

"I know. I'm sorry--" 

"I do not wish to hear your apologies or your excuses." Remus began prowling around Sirius again. "You are going to be punished in such a way that you will not forget the lesson again." 

Sirius lifted his gaze, a little surge of hope welling up in him; it didn't sound as if Remus intended to leave him, and that was all he cared about. He could bear anything else, no matter how difficult it was. 

Pulling out his wand, Remus gave it a flick, and the straight-back, armless chair at Sirius' desk slid across the room and stopped at the foot of Sirius' bed. "Sit down in that chair," he instructed, and Sirius scrambled to obey. 

As soon as Sirius was seated, Remus aimed his wand at him, and thin silvery ropes shot out of the tip and wound around Sirius' chest, tying him to the chair. Another flick of Remus' wrist, and ropes snaked around Sirius' legs, leaving him immobile. He could squirm, and he didn't feel as if his circulation was being cut off anywhere, but there wasn't any chance of him leaving the chair until Remus released him. 

Nodding as if satisfied, Remus placed his wand on the bedside table and then shrugged out of his shirt, letting it slide down his arms and fall to the floor. Sirius' mouth went dry, and he yanked at his bindings experimentally as he stared; it had been so long since they had been together, and he'd only enjoyed the sight of Remus' naked torso once. 

And then Remus reached for the fastenings of his trousers, and a low moan escaped Sirius' throat as he realized what his punishment was going to be: to watch, unable to touch. 

Even if he'd seen Remus completely naked, even if he'd been able to kiss and caress every inch of Remus' body a hundred times before, it still would have been an excruciating punishment. But he hadn't, and that made it even worse. He leaned forward as far as he could, wide-eyed as his gaze followed every move of Remus' hands, his own hands opening and closing helplessly. 

Remus pushed his trousers down and let them fall to his feet, revealing that he hadn't been wearing underpants beneath. Sirius' breath froze in his lungs, and he felt as if he might never draw breath again as he stared hungrily, desire and despair at war within him. Then Remus stepped out of his trousers and climbed onto the bed, stretching out in the middle where Sirius had an unobstructed view. 

Propping himself up on his elbows, he met and held Sirius' gaze, his expression still stern. "I had planned to take you to my bed and fuck you tonight," he said, and Sirius felt the words like a punch in the gut. "But you disobeyed, and worse, you didn't tell me you disobeyed. You said nothing, and I had to learn the truth from Molly." 

"I'm sorry," Sirius whispered, his eyes never leaving Remus', hoping Remus could see the depths of his contrition. 

"I'm sure you are, but nonetheless, you must be taught a lesson. You know what I'm going to do, don't you?" 

"Yes, sir." Sirius' tone was one of abject misery. 

"What is it?" 

"You're going to make me watch you touch yourself." 

"I am. Why do you think I chose that punishment?" Remus sat up and piled two pillows behind his back, and then leaned against them, running one hand idly up and down his chest; Sirius followed the movement, his tongue darting out to moisten his dry lips. 

"Because you know how badly I want to touch you. You know how insane it will drive me to watch and not be able to have what I want." 

"Was I correct?" Remus brushed his fingertips back and forth across one nipple and then pinched it between his thumb and forefinger, gasping softly, and Sirius moaned, his own fingers twitching. 

"Yes, sir." He squirmed within his bonds again, watching avidly as Remus slid his other hand down his body and curled it around his cock, tugging and pinching his nipple harder. "I should be doing that, not you," he blurted out. 

Remus' answering smile was mirthless. "I did this while I was away," he said, his voice taking on a growling undercurrent as his arousal grew. "I brought myself off imagining that my hands were your hands and wishing for your mouth." 

Letting out a low keen, Sirius could do nothing but watch, his breath shallow and rapid, Remus' words intensifying his desire more than he thought possible. Knowing that Remus fantasized about him and wanted him as much as he wanted Remus made his regret that his own impulsiveness had ruined what could have been a passionate reunion double. 

"I could--" 

"No." Remus began stroking himself, swirling his thumb around the head; Sirius could see fluid glistening on Remus' fingers and cock, and he whimpered as he remembered the taste and how perfect it felt to be on his knees with that thick cock in his mouth. "Not tonight. I don't care how badly either of us want it. I will not reward disobedience."

Bending his knees, Remus spread his legs wide, letting Sirius see his hand slowly trail from his nipple down to cup his balls; he wasn't the exhibitionist that Sirius had been, but as far as Sirius was concerned, he didn't need to be. He didn't know where to look first -- at the flush rising in Remus' cheeks, at his teeth worrying his bottom lip, at the quickening rise and fall of his chest, at the sheen of sweat forming on his pale skin, at the slow rocking of his hips to meet each stroke of his fist. 

He began stroking himself faster, pumping harder, and Sirius began to pant with him, straining towards him as much as the ropes would allow; he was overwhelmed with need, not for his own release, but to be allowed to do what he was meant to do. It should have been his hands bringing Remus to the edge of release and making him arch his back off the bed. It should have been his fingers teasing Remus' nipples, should have been him in bed with Remus, their bodies entwined. He clenched his fists when he heard Remus moan his name; he could see Remus' body growing tight, and he began to struggle against his bonds, desperation overruling his obedience. 

"Please!" he cried, unable to look away even as the sight of Remus hovering on the verge of orgasm ripped at him. "Please -- I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, master -- please let me touch you -- please, master, please let me \-- I need to--" 

But with a hoarse cry, Remus came, stroking himself throughout his release until he was spent. As he collapsed against the pillows, Sirius slumped in his chair, aching with a sense of loss and emptiness. He was still aroused, almost painfully so, but he didn't care; all he could think about was his chance to please his master that had been lost. 

After a minute or two, Remus reached for his wand and cleaned himself up quickly and efficiently, and then he rolled off the bed and dressed, once again not bothering to button his shirt. Only then did he approach Sirius again, wand in hand. With a low growl, he fisted his hand in Sirius' hair and yanked his head up, forcing Sirius to meet his eyes. Sirius cried out, both the sudden stinging of his scalp and Remus' ferocity startling him, and when he looked up, he saw the wolf rising in Remus' eyes. 

"When I give you a rule, you will obey it. Is that understood?" 

Wide-eyed and more aroused than he believed possible, Sirius nodded. "Yes, my master." 

"When I release you, you will not touch me. Tomorrow, you will remain in your room and come downstairs only for meals." 

Sirius swallowed hard before daring to voice the question burning in his mind. "What about tomorrow night?"

"You will not come to my room." 

"But you'll be alone..." 

"I've spent more full moons alone than with company." 

Remus released his hair and stepped back, and Sirius whimpered, more from the idea of not being able to spend the night of the full moon with Remus. Every full moon since they began living together, Sirius had waited until the transformation was complete, and then he went to Remus' room, changed into his canine form, and they spent the night together. Snape was still making the Wolfsbane for Remus, and sometimes, Sirius took a few minutes to give him a good scratching or play fetch with him before transforming himself. After, they wrestled and played chase until they were both tired, and then they curled up together on the rug. Sirius had been hoping this month, they might indulge in some other kinds of play, but there was no hope of that now. 

Even after Remus released him and left the room, Sirius remained where he was, overwhelmed and lost. His erection slowly subsided, but when he finally got up and went to his bed, he could smell Remus all over it, and that aroused him anew. Stripping off his clothes, he lay down in the center of the bed where Remus had been and wrapped up in the covers, surrounding himself with Remus' scent and wishing he was wrapped up in Remus' embrace instead. 

The next morning at breakfast, Remus talked to him as he always did, but there were no surreptitious caresses under the table or flirty looks exchanged while Molly's back was turned. It was strictly platonic, no hint of his loving master in sight, and Sirius hurried back upstairs, eager to escape. It felt wrong, and he hated it, hated the distance he felt between them; he needed his master, needed to feel their closeness and connection, needed to touch and be touched more than he could express. 

He skipped lunch and went down for dinner reluctantly, doing little more than pushing the food around on his plate. Molly fussed over him, asking if he was feeling all right and encouraging him to eat. Remus wasn't there at all. He had, Molly said, taken dinner in his own room as he usually did when a transformation was near. 

Much later, Sirius huddled by his door and pressed his ear against it, listening to the scuffling sounds coming from Remus' room and the cries of pain that turned into howls. Without his usual playmate, Remus settled down quickly, and soon all was silent. Sirius went to bed shortly after, but sleep was a long time in coming. 

Although Remus hadn't told him to remain in his room the following day as well, Sirius did anyway, at least through the morning. He'd eaten a little breakfast and then gone back upstairs, pausing outside Remus' door and listening. He didn't hear anything within, but he didn't expect to, really. Remus would, he knew, spend most of the day sleeping, and once more Sirius felt adrift. 

He knew what he wanted to do, but he didn't know if it was a wise idea. Technically, it wouldn't be disobeying, but at the same time, he didn't want to run the risk of being punished -- _really_ punished -- again so soon. In the end, his need outweighed his concerns, and late that afternoon, he let himself into Remus' room. 

As he'd expected, Remus was asleep, his face drawn and etched with lines of fatigue even in sleep; the sheets were bunched around his hips as he lay stretched out on his side, his hands clasped beneath his chin, and he was naked from the waist up. Sirius guessed that he was naked beneath the sheets as well, and while that thought intrigued him, for once sex wasn't uppermost on his mind. 

Kneeling beside the bed, Sirius reached out and smoothed back a few tousled locks of brown and silver hair that had fallen into Remus' face, his heart aching with the need to take care of this man whom he held so dear. He caressed Remus' cheek with the backs of his fingers, and Remus stirred, stretching and wincing before finally opening his eyes. Perhaps because he was still half-asleep, or perhaps because he knew Sirius so well, he didn't look surprised to see Sirius there. Instead, he lay still and watched Sirius silently, as if waiting to see what he would do next. 

"I'm sorry, master," Sirius whispered, and Remus stretched one arm out to stroke his hair gently. 

"I know. It's all right. It's over now." Resting his hand on the back of Sirius' head, Remus drew him into a light and tender kiss, and Sirius clutched the sheet in his fists, moaning with relief. "Would you like to stay with me?" 

"Yes, please." He couldn't seem to get his voice to work above a whisper, but it didn't matter; all that mattered was that he was forgiven. 

Slipping out of his shoes, he climbed into bed where Remus lay holding out his arms, and he moved quickly into that embrace, nestling as close as he could get without crawling beneath Remus' skin. Remus wrapped him up in both arms, warm and tight, and Sirius felt as if he could finally breathe again when Remus tucked him beneath his chin and stroked his back soothingly. 

"It's all right," Remus murmured, rubbing his back in slow circles. "My good boy." 

At that, the last bit of tension drained out of Sirius' body, and with a deep sigh, he relaxed and let himself drift off, feeling safe and anchored at last. 

* * *

"Come to my room tonight after dinner. It's time for me to claim you properly." 

Remus' words, murmured in Sirius' ear before they went down to breakfast, echoed in Sirius' mind on an endless loop. He heard them as he went through the motions of table conversation, as he tended to Buckbeak, as he went to help clean up the doxy infestation in one of the guest bedrooms. 

He'd woken up in Remus' arms that morning -- a first. He'd never spent the entire night with Remus before, but he thought it was probably a sign that Remus wanted the contact as much as he did after being apart for a week and dealing with a strict punishment immediately after. Whatever the reason, he didn't question it, and he certainly didn't complain; he'd enjoyed waking up to the feel of Remus spooned up against him, one arm draped possessively around his waist, Remus' breath warming the back of his neck. He wanted a lifetime of mornings like that. 

Although Sirius tried to keep himself busy, the hours crawled by; he even found himself volunteering to help Molly polish the silver just to pass the time. It didn't help that Remus disappeared that afternoon without mentioning where he was going; Sirius had hoped he might be able to persuade Remus to move whatever nocturnal activities he had planned to the afternoon, but that hope was dashed. 

Remus returned shortly before dinner, looking pleased with himself, but he merely smiled and said nothing when Sirius raised a questioning eyebrow at him as they made their way to the kitchen. Molly had made roast chicken, one of Sirius' favorites, but it was all he could do to keep from fidgeting in his chair throughout the meal. He managed to swallow a few bites and spent the rest of the time mentally hurrying Remus, wanting him to eat faster. He hadn't felt this excited and anticipatory over anything since Christmas as a child, and this was one present he was quite eager to unwrap. He'd been waiting for it a very long time, and now that it was almost in his reach, he felt like he might combust if Remus didn't stop slicing up his carrots so slowly and just _eat_ , damn it! 

But Remus didn't rush, and Sirius sighed and tried not to squirm and ignored Molly when she asked if he had ants in his pants. 

Finally, Remus finished his plate, and he smiled and thanked Molly for the meal before pushing back his chair and rising to his feet. He glanced across the table at Sirius, and Sirius' breath caught in his throat when he saw the desire kindling in Remus' eyes and the "come hither" slant of his smile. At that, Sirius almost knocked his chair over in his haste to leap to his feet and follow Remus out. 

By the time they got upstairs and the door of Remus' bedroom was closed and locked behind them, Sirius was ready to tear his clothes off then and there and leap onto the bed, but instead of beginning to undress or reaching to undress Sirius, Remus went straight to his dresser and picked up a small box tied with a red ribbon. 

"I have something for you," he said, offering the box to Sirius. 

"You shouldn't have--"

"I wanted to." Remus moved closer, still holding out the box, and Sirius reached out to take it, surprised and pleased. 

He untied the ribbon and then pried open the lid. Inside, nestled in a bed of tissue paper, was a black leather collar. Stunned, he picked it up and let the box fall to the floor, smoothing the collar between his fingers as he stared down at it. A collar. Remus had bought him a collar. 

He looked up at last, looked at Remus and wanted to say something, but he didn't know what to say. He knew what this meant: Remus had accepted their dynamic completely and wanted to claim Sirius as his own. He belonged to Remus, and Remus knew it. Felt it. Wanted it enough to give Sirius an outward sign of his acceptance. 

"Will you put it on for me?" he asked at last, and Remus smiled and nodded. 

"You like it, then?" Remus asked as he took the collar from Sirius' hand. 

Sirius knelt at Remus' feet and lifted his hair out of the way, tilting his chin up to give Remus access to his throat. "I'll never take it off." He rested his hands on Remus' hips, wanting contact as Remus fastened the collar around his neck, feeling as though his heart was full enough to burst. 

"Is that too tight?" 

"It's perfect." He reached up and stroked it, turning his head to feel the rub of the leather against his skin, and then he gazed up at Remus, meeting his eyes. "I'm yours." 

"Yes." Remus stroked his cheek and then let his fingers trail along Sirius' jaw and down to his throat. "You're mine. Always." 

With that, he grasped Sirius' shoulders and helped him up, immediately pulling him into a deep, demanding kiss; Sirius whimpered with need as he flung his arms around Remus and pressed against him, parting his lips and eagerly drawing Remus' questing tongue deeper. His whimpers turned to moans when Remus began mouthing kisses along his neck and nipping at his earlobe, and he slid his hands down Remus' back to clutch his arse, feeling a surge of smug pleasure when Remus gasped and then bit his ear harder in response. 

Reaching between them, Remus yanked roughly at the fastening of Sirius' robes, not caring if he ripped the fabric or popped a few buttons in the process, and Sirius felt as if his knees might give way at any moment at that. He'd deliberately chosen not to wear underpants beneath his robes, thus when the abused garment fell to the floor, he was left naked, and he could see Remus' eyes darken with arousal at the sight. 

"On the bed. Now." Remus' husky voice was low, but it carried in the silent room, and Sirius hastened to obey, leaping onto the bed and sprawling on his back, panting as he watched Remus begin to undress just as quickly and impatiently, pausing only long enough to put his wand on the bedside table. 

Mere moments later, Remus was naked as well, but Sirius scarcely had time to enjoy the sight before Remus was in bed with him, pouncing on top of him, covering him. He gasped, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head with the pleasure of skin against skin, and he wrapped his arms around Remus' shoulders, drawing him down, and rubbed himself against Remus, wanting more of the delicious sensation. 

Remus settled his hips between Sirius' legs and rocked against him, letting their erection rub together, and Sirius moaned and rocked with him, feeling as though he would never get enough of this exquisite bliss no matter how many times they made love. He arched up as Remus trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down his chest, his fingers digging into Remus' shoulders, his moans growing louder as Remus' tongue swirled in his navel. But instead of continuing down, Remus moved back up and closed his mouth over Sirius' nipple, laving it with broad swipes of his tongue, and Sirius began to writhe beneath him, his breathing growing ragged. He didn't know if he could stand much more foreplay, or rather, he didn't _want_ to stand it -- he'd been fantasizing about having sex with Remus for years, waiting for it for weeks, and it was finally happening, and he wanted it _now_.

"Please!" he gasped, and Remus lifted his head and gave him a predatory grin. 

"Please what?" 

"Please fuck me. I need it -- need you -- so much." Sirius gazed up at him with pleading eyes, his body taut and quivering beneath Remus'. 

"Tell me." 

Sirius didn't have to ask what he meant. "I'm yours," he said immediately, tipping his chin up and baring his throat to Remus. "I belong to you. Only you, always." 

"Mine." Remus drew his nose along the length of Sirius' neck as if scenting him and then nudged the collar aside before fastening his teeth on Sirius' throat, biting hard, and Sirius cried out with pleasure and pain, clinging to Remus with desperate need as he offered himself up unreservedly. 

"Yours, I'm yours. Always yours alone, my master." Bending his knees, he spread his legs and angled his hips up. "Fuck me. Take me. Claim me and make me yours forever." 

Remus flung out one arm and groped on the bedside table for his wand until his fingers closed around it, and then he tapped Sirius' hip, murmuring a stretching spell followed by a lubrication spell, and Sirius gasped at the odd sensations, shivering when he realized his fantasy was about to turn into reality. He felt the head of Remus' cock pushing inside him, and he cried out, not from pain but from the sheer pleasure and relief of feeling Remus inside him, of being claimed by his master. He snapped his hips up and clamped both hands on Remus' arse, trying to push him even deeper, not caring if it hurt; he just wanted to feel Remus buried inside him, to know that they were joined at last as they were meant to be. 

"Take me fuck me do it _please_..."

And then Remus thrust deep and hard, and Sirius thrust against him, feeling so stretched and filled but wanting him even deeper. It was good, so good, so much better than any fantasy, and it was real. Remus was really inside him, filling him, fucking him, moving with him, and he surrendered himself completely, offering his body as a willing vessel for Remus' pleasure. 

He felt Remus shift his angle with each thrust until suddenly his cock was stroking that sensitive gland with each thrust, and Sirius threw his head back as a strangled cry escaped his throat, intoxicated by the intense sensation. He rocked with Remus, matching his rhythm and meeting each thrust with eager hunger, and then Remus slid his hand between their bodies and grasped Sirius' cock, stroking it roughly. Tossing his head on the pillow, Sirius fought to hold off his orgasm, not wanting it to end so soon, but his body needed release, and he'd been too wound up for too long, and it only took a few pumps of Remus' fists before it became too much, and he came hard and fast, his lungs too desperate for air to let him scream out his pleasure as he longed to do. 

Lifting his hand to his mouth, Remus licked it clean, watching Sirius intently all the while, and Sirius moaned at the sight as he sprawled, limp and sated, beneath Remus. But then Remus braced himself over Sirius and began to move again, and Sirius mustered the energy to move with him, groaning with pleasure as Remus let his control slip, pounding into Sirius with relentless abandon. 

"Yes yes fuck me use me..." he chanted encouragement, clutching Remus' shoulders, watching him raptly as he neared release. 

With a hoarse cry, Remus surged deep with one last, slamming thrust and came, shuddering in the aftermath of his release, and Sirius curved his arms around him, drawing him down and holding him close. Panting, Remus rested atop Sirius and nuzzled his nose against Sirius' throat, tangling his legs with Sirius' as they lay entwined. 

"Mine," he murmured

"Yours," Sirius agreed, stroking Remus' back in slow caresses from shoulder to hip and he rubbed his cheek against the top of Remus' head. "My master," he whispered, giving Remus a little squeeze, and he could feel Remus' smile against his skin as he relaxed in the circle of Sirius' arms. 

"My good boy." Remus reached up to stroke Sirius' collar tenderly. "Always my good boy." 

Smiling, Sirius closed his eyes and relaxed, sated and, for the first time since his escape, experiencing a moment of pure, unconditional happiness. It had been a slow process, but the end result was worth it. He knew they had more obstacles to face before the war was over, but they were together now, and that was all that mattered. Within Remus' embrace, Sirius knew that he was accepted completely, and that he had a place where he fit perfectly. It was _his_ place, belonging to him alone. 

For the first time, Sirius had a home. 


End file.
